Home Is Where the Heart Is
by Ozium Actys
Summary: Roxas is used to the rules he sets for himself, but a tarot-loving streetrat is setting him way off schedule. Happy akuroku day! Rated M for explicit language occasionally and later lemony goodness.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: HAPPY AKUROKU DAY! Sorry it's so late but I had to work today so this was the only time I could upload it. I hope you all had a great 8/13. It's a two-shot. Also, since I'm a terrible fangirl I only have the first chapter for you today. But that just means I'm spreading out the goodness to tomorrow (I hope) as well. So…enjoy. Also reviews are my life. So give me some? I apologize for the complete lack of editing. Let me know what I've done wrong (but some compliments are appreciated too).**

He was all tight skin stretched taught against the curves of his acid-bleached bones, gaunt hands shimmering in the near-sunlight like some sort of porcelain doll modeled after a Holocaust survivor. He could have been beautiful, but ended up leaning on the brink of disturbing instead. The skin under his eyes sagged under the weight of insomnia and slight bruises darkened his cheeks like a sinister blush, spreading down to below the collar of his worn out hoodie. He was the sort of guy that Roxas avoided like the plague, that much he could tell by the two small purple triangles inked onto his face. But he looked different from the other streetrats that wandered the trash-filled alleyways of the city. Something made him stand out other than the shockingly brilliant hue of his stiffly spiked hair. Roxas paused and glanced at his watch. 7:47, as always. Thirteen minutes exactly to get to class. Two for each block and one extra in case he ran into trouble. For a moment he thought that if he just walked a little faster he would have time to stop…before he remembered that the only reason people are homeless is because they don't deserve a home. He took a deep jagged breath and then held it as he walked briskly by so that he wouldn't have to smell the layers of filth on that shining shell of a body. He was so focused on making it past the man without breathing that he totally missed the way a piercing green gaze followed him as he weaved through the early morning crowd for three blocks before he turned the corner.

The sight of the man haunted him throughout the day. He'd never seen a homeless man outside his apartment before and it shocked him a little. They were easier to ignore when they were far from his home. It was easier to write them off as drug-addicts and lazy lunatics when he hadn't just stepped out of the (questionable) comfort of his sleazy apartment building. Something bothered him about the picture he had developed in his head. He had seen so many men crouched in the slime of the streets, hunched up in gray hoodie sweatshirts and dark, stained jeans, and they all fit the same mold.

It was Luxord who helped him figure it out. Between classes Luxord always liked to go down to the Papou Café and engage whoever was willing in a (questionably) fair game of poker. Roxas had agreed to accompany him today but he preferred to sit back and watch the other players slowly drain their pockets to Luxord's greedy hands. It was the fourth round when it hit him, just as Luxord was shuffling the cards for the last time, that the cards were the key. The homeless man in front of his apartment had looked like any other except he had been holding a deck of cards, aimlessly shuffling them in and out of place as he eyed the passerby and glanced longingly at the hollow emptiness of the small tin bowl in front of him. What was a homeless man doing with a deck of cards? It occurred to Roxas that perhaps it was a way to pass the hours – with no job and no family or friends it would be nice to have _something_ to do while the sun shone. But somehow that didn't fit his image of the man. He could be trying to lure people into a game of poker, thereby stripping them of their loose change. But Roxas couldn't imagine anyone stopping on the street and just kneeling on the corner for a game of poker. He practically burned a hole in his head trying to reason it out for the rest of the day, but nothing quite made sense.

He stayed at the library late that night, trying to accomplish everything that he hadn't done during the day because of the distraction of his thoughts. By ten he had to admit to himself that nothing else was going to get done until tomorrow and just turned off his computer, packed up his bag and hurried home. If he walked a little faster than usual it was because it was late and he didn't want to get mugged. There were any number of horror stories about the shady alleyways in this part of town and Roxas didn't want to be a main character in any of them. So he kept his head down and clutched his briefcase with practically white knuckles and didn't look up from the sidewalk until he reached his apartment. There was no sign of a pale, bright haired man with a deck of cards, not that Roxas had been looking for one. He was glad that the strange man was gone. Now he wouldn't have to worry about what stupid tricks he had up his sleeve for parting Roxas from his money.

Roxas woke up exactly ten minutes early the next morning with a mind foggy enough that he really didn't know why he was doing it. Still, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower and let a bit of cold water shock him awake before he actually got clean and dressed. He tapped his foot impatiently as he wolfed down a bowl of oatmeal and practically choked on it in his rush to finish. He was out the door at exactly 7:37, standing on the corner of the street and feeling a sense of déjà vu as he stared at the strange man on the corner. He had a…customer of sorts, a teenage girl with frizzy hair and a swoop of a skirt that was bunched up around her legs as she crouched in front of the man and stared down at the cards on the sidewalk. She had strings of beads woven into her hair and Roxas could practically smell the weed on her from where he stood. She thanked the man and dropped a few coins into the bowl at his feet and was on her way. Roxas watched the cards get shuffled back into the deck as he approached. The man glanced up.

"You really shouldn't be gambling this early in the morning." Roxas was surprised at how easily the words came out. He wasn't good with strangers. He wasn't good with people in general, actually. The man grinned, amused, and his eyes squinted up at Roxas.

"Tarot cards," he explained, spreading out a few cards so Roxas could see. "Pretty city boy want a reading?" His voice was deep and purring, like some sort of big cat that Roxas had never seen before because he'd certainly never seen anyone like this.

"A reading?"

"The future, the past, which moment's you're last…" his singsong voice trailed off and he gave Roxas another amused smile. "But the pretty city boy doesn't believe in _magic_." His bright green eyes widened at the last word and he flipped a card off the top of his deck so suddenly that Roxas almost jumped. He narrowed his gaze. The red-haired man turned the card around and studied it, cocking his head to one side and narrowing his eyes. "Interesting…" he murmured and Roxas was sure he had been all but forgotten.

"How much?" he asked and the man's gaze flicked back to his face. Studying him like a card.

"Depends what you want to know." The grin was back on his face, full force. "We've got full readings and three-card and two-card and one-card. You got something specific to ask?"

"Uh…" The surprising eloquence Roxas had found earlier had apparently left and he stumbled across his thoughts like roots in the forest of his mind. "Not really." The red-haired man nodded, face serious. "Something quick," Roxas added, as an afterthought, glancing at his watch, and the man chuckled.

"Pretty city boy has somewhere to be. Got to draw the cards at three," he murmured, eyes trained on the deck as he shuffled the cards. Roxas narrowed his gaze.

"My name's Roxas."

The man stopped shuffling and glanced up, grin stretched across his face like a clothesline. "Mine's Axel. A-X-E-L. Got it memorized? Here, shuffle the cards." He held up the deck and Roxas took it from him, glancing with half an interest at a few of the cards before shuffling it a few times.

"Love. Future. Helps and hindrances. Sound good?" Roxas opened his mouth to reply but apparently it wasn't necessary. "Good, draw three." Roxas pulled the cards one by one from the deck and the man laid them in front of him in a careful line. "Love, future, helps and hindrances," he murmured putting down the deck and studying the cards. He pointed to the first which held a picture of a man in a red cloak raising a wand of some sort. "Love. The magician." He tapped the card, thinking. "A strange card for love. Someone who uses others to succeed perhaps?" He looked at Roxas but the blonde-haired man shook his head.

"There must be a mistake. I don't…there isn't…" Roxas didn't know how to finish the sentence without feeling ashamed of his lack of a love life so he just stammered to a halt.

"Someone confident." Axel said after the pause and moved on, pointing to the next card. A picture of a shining angel looking over a couple that stood hand in hand in the sunlight. "Future. The lovers." A smirk spread across his face as he looked up at his customer. He winked. "There will be someone soon…" The third card held a picture of an old man, dressed regally and sitting on a throne. "Helps and hindrances. The emperor. Strict rules and guidelines." He glanced up. "What do you think? Help or a hindrance?"

"Help," Roxas replied automatically, thinking of his tight schedule and the rules he set out for himself. He couldn't imagine a world without rules and guidelines. They kept him grounded, focused, on track. Axel studied him for a moment.

"Could be," he finally replied, dropping his gaze to the cards and shuffling them back into the deck. "Three munny."

Roxas fished the coins out of his pocket and dropped them into the bowl. He glanced at his watch. 7:52. "Shit!" he turned quickly and started half-jogging down the street, desperate to make up for lost time. Thoughts of work and progress and money to be made kept him occupied until he finally shut down his computer at the end of the day. That was when he thought back on the prophecies Axel had set down for him and what they could possibly mean. That was when he decided to get another reading.

"I want to know if I'm going to get a job." If the sound of the blonde's voice hadn't gotten Axel's attention the noise of the coins hitting the tin certainly did. He glanced up.

"Pretty city boy is back for more," he grinned. "So you do believe in magic." Roxas decided not to respond to that and just looked expectantly at the deck. "Any particular job you had in mind?" Axel asked as he handed over the cards.

"There's this research position at a medical magazine. There's not much one can do with a major in psychology but this is pretty much my dream job…Anyway. You said you could do specific readings and…" he trailed off and drew the card on top of the deck.

"Ah…the knight of pentacles." Axel smiled and nodded. "He who is dutiful gets what he deserves and nothing less."

"Is that a yes?" Axel shrugged.

"The cards don't tell the future, Roxas, they just let you know your options. But it's a good omen. It means you need to be rational and make good decisions and work hard. But if you do those things you will certainly be rewarded. That a good enough answer for you?"

Roxas swallowed and then nodded slowly, staring at the deck of cards in his hand before he handed it back to Axel. "Thanks," he murmured, but it was more in reference to the use of his name than anything else.

His work, his studies, his future, his past. Roxas had been through it all, gradually emptying his pockets into that little tin bowl as he learned more and more about himself through a medium he trusted more than he thought he should. But Axel had been right about the job, and he was right about a lot of other things too – things that he couldn't have known otherwise because Roxas never told those things to anyone. The death of his mother, the hardships of having a twin who was consistently more loved, his fear of the future and of being alone. Roxas trusted those cards, and the fragile hands that read them so carefully. He was beginning to think that Axel knew more about him than he did himself. And he was beginning to look suspicious. After all, most customers get a tarot reading once, maybe twice. Every day seemed a bit excessive. So he was grateful for the excuse his professor gave him when he suggested that Roxas do an essay on philanthropy, accompanied by at least a few good deeds. He was less grateful now, sitting across from the redhead he'd invited to dinner and trying to ignore the tension humming through his veins. He looked so different in the dark skinny jeans and tight t-shirt he'd borrowed from Riku, and Roxas was more than a little shocked by the transformation. Axel had the decency to at least pretend not to notice the way Roxas was staring at him.

"So…tell me something about yourself."

"What don't you know?"

Axel rolled his eyes. "A thousand things. Your favorite color, the music you listen to, what school you go to, where you used to live, why you live in the city…" he trailed off and glanced up expectantly. Roxas swallowed and looked down at his own plate, trying to find the answers in the half-eaten spaghetti. He took a deep breath.

"Blue, all sorts of music but mostly stuff you wouldn't hear on the radio like Say Anything and Death Cab for Cutie, Radiant Gardens, Destiny Island, because I love to be in the center of everything." He glanced up. Axel was smirking at him. "And you?"

"Hmmm…" Axel leaned back into the padded booth seat and closed his eyes, thinking. "Red. Whatever music I can get. Don't go to school. Used to live in the middle of nowhere. Thought the city would be a nice change of pace," he opened his eyes and gave Roxas an amused glance. "More so than I thought."

"What got you into tarot reading?" Roxas found that now they were conversing he didn't want to stop. Which was unusual for him since he generally had the urge to slap people if they didn't shut up within five minutes of when they began talking.

"Growing up there was this little shop in town that sold all sorts of weird stuff like dream catchers and tarot cards. I found this deck one day and I just…couldn't look away, you know?" Roxas, who was staring again, could only nod. "It was the first time I ever stole something," he murmured, glancing out the window. "And you?" he asked, turning his eyes back to Roxas.

Roxas smiled. "Well there was this crazy guy sitting outside my apartment one day and he told me I didn't believe in magic. I had to prove him wrong."

"And did you?" There was more emotion laced into the question than there should have been and it was making Roxas nervous the way everything the redhead said sounded like an innuendo.

"No," he finally managed, breaking eye contact so he could find the words. "Everything he said was true."

If Roxas slept a little unsoundly that night it was because there was a stray cat in the alley right outside his window and he kept trying to put on some sort of performance. It was not because he was awoken multiple times by a rather vivid dream involving a lot of skin and some brilliantly colored red hair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: I'm a terrible person. I think I might be deathly allergic to finishing this story. Believe me, I want to, but it's just not happening right now. So the bad news is that this is apparently turning into a multi-chapter piece that's way longer than I originally intended. The good news is that here is another chapter. The other bad news is that you may hate this chapter. I know I do. But maybe that's just because it's still not over. I'M SORRY. More good news: wisdom teeth are coming out which means I won't want to do anything but lie in bed all day. That's a good place for writing. Have hope.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. But I can think of a whole lot of things I would do with them if I did.**

Roxas wasn't used to feeling flustered. Everything he did was scheduled perfectly into his day until he couldn't cram anything else in. When things went unscheduled, things went badly. So it was surprising to him that he was becoming such good friends with the red head. He hadn't scheduled in that first tarot reading and now his whole schedule was a little skewed. Half an hour off for lunch, unless maybe he could make time for Axel, meant that he was always just a little bit late for his Classic Literature class on alternating afternoons. Thirteen minutes to get to class, but throw in a tarot reading of course, meant that Monday mornings he started Calculus with a sweat-covered shirt from the run to campus. He was continually taken by surprise whenever Axel did anything.

It shouldn't have been such a surprise, therefore, to find that Axel wasn't on the corner the next day. Roxas should have known that such an unpredictable character would have moved on to the next street. Maybe he'd discovered a better populated district and was trying to earn a few more coins over there. Still, he stood outside his apartment building for far longer than he should have, staring at the empty space where Axel once sat and imagining those fragile hands caressing their precious deck, again and again. He was thirty minutes late to class and he didn't even care.

He trudged through the day, blindly following a schedule he knew by heart and tripping over the gaps. Tarot…people watching. Lunch with…alone. He felt half-awake; dazed by the sudden space the fiery redhead had burned in his life. When he finally stumbled home he fell into bed, grateful for something that didn't remind him of Axel. It wasn't until he was already asleep that he remembered it was in his dreams that Axel showed up the most.

He was prepared after that to walk right past the spot where his ex-friend had once sat. He steeled himself to not even think about it. He reworked the schedule to the way it used to be, the way it should have been, his and his alone. Of course, with Axel, he could never be prepared. The redhead was sitting in his usual spot, chatting up an elderly businessman like nothing had happened. Roxas waited for him to leave before he stormed over.

"Where the hell were you?"

"Oh, Roxas! Good morning!"

"I was worried sick!"

"Oh, come on. Stop acting like my mother. I had some stuff to do."

"Stuff? You abandon me all day and you try to write that off as "stuff"?"

"Abandon you? What are you, a puppy dog? Roxas, I've got a life. I can't keep babysitting you all the time."

"Oh, so now I'm a child. Of course. Very creative, Axel. You know what, you're right, I shouldn't have cared. It's no wonder you're alone. No one could put up with you for long enough to actually have a real relationship!"

He turned to find that several people were staring intently at the duo, watching the argument unfold. He clenched his hands into fists and started walking.

"Come back when you're done with your temper tantrum!"

Roxas decided that didn't deserve a response, so he just kept going, not even checking his watch. This time, he'd be on time. This time, he'd do it right.

He saw him every night. He'd go to sleep determined to think of anything but the redhead and wake up pissed off that he couldn't manage it. His pillows took a lot of abuse for no good reason and he had to buy a new alarm clock twice when he threw it against the wall and then couldn't put it back together again.

During the day it should have been easier. He'd clearly moved on from his spot outside Roxas' apartment building, so he shouldn't see him at all. And he didn't really. It was just that, that girl walking down the street had the same color hair – but not quite, just a little too brown. That man outside the music store had the same wicked grin – but not quite as big and not nearly as genuine. That lady had the same eyes – but bigger and less cat-like. Axel was everywhere, even when he was nowhere to be found.

Finally, frustrated by his continued inability to stop thinking of the redhead, he came up with the brilliant idea of actually _finding_ the man – mostly so he could punch him a few times. He started going for long walks through the city, scouring the streets for the tarot-card reader, asking anyone homeless if they knew where he was. No, they'd say, he moves all over the place. He was here on Wednesday, but he won't be back. It was two weeks before anyone said anything useful.

"Nah, he ain't gonna be here no more."

"Okay, thank you very much for your time." Roxas turned to go.

"Roxas." He stopped. He heard gentle laughter. "He told me about you." The blonde turned again to face the boy he'd been talking to. He was slumped against the side of a library, guitar on his lab, cornrows resting against the faded bricks. "Said he almost did something stupid for you," he plucked a few strings, the chords echoing off the walls of the alley. "Said he'd do it again."

"What did he do?" For some reason his voice cracked on the words. The boy shrugged.

"There's a story at the bottom of this bottle…" he murmured, strumming something Roxas didn't recognize. "Said he was gonna quit his job."

"He has a job?"

"And I'm the pen…" he sang, before adjusting the guitar in his lap and looking up. "Had a job. Not sure they'll take him back now."

"Who?"

"Make it count, when I'm the one who's selling you out," his voice rose a little with the lyrics and then he paused again. "Big brother Reno like a lot of loyalty," he murmured, eyes staring blankly down at the guitar.

"Do you know where I can find him?" That seemed to break the spell.

"Sorry, kid. Ain't no place I'm going."

Roxas had never wanted to be a detective. He didn't even read mystery books because they usually involved murder and honestly he just wanted to stay away from that stuff. Also, he wasn't interested in having to figure out what was going to happen next. He liked his novels predictable. Still, it took a detective to track down a man named Reno when he had no idea where to start and since Roxas was determined – and maybe a little desperate – to do so, he dug out his magnifying glass (figuratively) and got to work.

It turned out that he hadn't just gotten lucky with Xaldin – the name he had come across for the man in cornrows. A lot of people on the streets knew of Reno. They had at least heard the name in passing. The unfortunate thing was that it usually came with some nasty rumors that they weren't willing to share and that they never so much as wanted to point Roxas in the right direction. The amount of shudders the name drew out of people sent Roxas down shadier and shadier sections of the city until finally he was so far in the slums that he started bringing a knife with him wherever he went and just enough money to loosen a few tongues. He had thought he lived in a bad part of town, but it was nothing compared to this. He had to hose down his shoes when he got home after every trip and he still smelled like a mixture of home-brewed beer and black garlic for a while. It was in this part of town that he found Larxene, leaning up against the wall of a bar and smoking something he hoped was a cigarette.

"Um, excuse me, I'm looking for a man named Reno? Do you have any idea where I might find him?" the girl raised one eyebrow and raked a glance down his body before she spoke.

"You're looking for Reno?"

"Um, yes. Do you know where he is?" She smirked and tapped one long finger down the edge of her cigarette, flicking ashes onto the sidewalk, where they disappeared amongst the filth.

"And what business you got with Reno, shortstuff?" Roxas stiffened.

"He's got something I want."

"Oh?" Her other eyebrow shot up in a look of amused surprise. She leaned forward, her cleavage practically falling out of her skin-tight dress. "Something you can't find here?" She asked, sliding one arm carefully over his shoulder and watching her fingers dance to the other side. He shuddered and shrugged, but the motion did nothing to dissuade her.

"Yes." He hoped his voice wasn't shaking as much as his thoughts.

"You sure about that, honey? Cuz I don't need an ID. Back here we run on trust and…" she leaned closer, "love…" she drawled into his ear, lips brushing the skin.

"I'm sorry," he pulled away and she stumbled a bit, "I'm really not interested. If you could just point me in the right direction, I'll be on my way."

"Well, sugar, I'm sure I don't know what kind of business you got with the old man, but I don't wanna know." She eyed him skeptically. Roxas narrowed his eyes.

"Look, I just need you to tell me which way to go. I've got money." She perked up a bit at that.

"How much?"

"Twenty-five dollars."

"Make it seventy-five and I'll lead the way."

"Done." Roxas held out his hand and Larxene stuck her cigarette in her mouth so they could shake on it. Then she turned her head to the open door behind her.

"Hey Xemnas! I'm going out! Found some kid wants to see Reno!" She turned back to Roxas and smiled in a sickly-sweet version of happiness. "Let's get going, kid. You're gonna wanna be outta there by nightfall." She dropped her cigarette to the ground and started walking down the alleyway. "So…" she drawled, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he was following, "what brings you to this side of town."

"I told you. Reno has something of mine. I've come to get it back."

"Oh?" She glanced around a corner before turning onto an even narrower street. "And what makes you think he's going to give it back?"

"I'm sure we can work something out." Larxene glanced back at him again, and for a moment Roxas thought she actually looked concerned, but she didn't say anything else on the matter. Roxas, for his part, was desperately trying to work something out.

Reno, it turned out, was the name of the man that ran the most successful whore-house in the city. He had people all over the city, bringing in money. Larxene said she'd seen Axel around "HQ" as she liked to call it and assumed he was another of Reno's men. It took more than women with big boobs to satisfy some customers she explained rather testily, as if it was a personal offense to her that she wasn't wanted by absolutely everybody. Roxas thought that the antennae-shaped hair on top of her head might not be helping her out with that problem but he didn't mention it. Headquarters was located about fifteen minutes walk from the city center, or five from where Roxas had found Larxene, so it didn't take long for them to get there. It was a crumbling building that looked like it had once housed offices until the Department of Health and Safety had discovered its existence and realized that nobody in their right mind would work there. He was on edge from the instant he stepped inside, prepared for the ceilings to cave in or the stairs to collapse under him or any number of other imagined scenarios that were not as unlikely as he would have liked.

Larxene led him up two flights of the death traps before they got to some sort of lobby where she whispered a few things to a man with pink hair and told Roxas to take a seat because Marly was going to tell Reno they were here. Roxas politely declined her offer and instead counted out her reward and stood rigidly against a slightly sturdy wall watching the people flow in and out. There were certainly some interesting characters in the building, and standing among them, Larxene's hair (and Marly's) didn't look nearly so out of place. It scared him to think that Axel's bright red crop of spikes wouldn't look so strange here either.

"See anything you like?" Roxas jumped and his gaze swiveled to rest on the man who had approached him. For a heart-stopping moment he thought it was Axel but then he realized that it was just the hair. The face was a different shape, and the eyes were _ not green. This man had his long red spikes tied back in a ponytail and topped with a pair of dark shades. He was dressed in a crisp business suit, with the top few buttons undone and he looked dangerous, even if you ignored the two men that flanked him on either side. "I see what Larx meant, yo," he continued, giving Roxas a cursory once-over, "you could be a cute boy toy." He held out his hand. "Reno."

Roxas took a deep breath and managed to shake hands with the man he'd been chasing for so long, even if he was shaking like a windchime on the inside. "Roxas. I've been looking for you for a long time."

Reno grinned and the resemblance to Axel was uncanny. "I know. I've been waiting. You're a persistent little bugger aren't you?" Roxas attempted a half-smile by way of reply. Reno looped an arm casually around his shoulder and started dragging him forward. "Come with me to my office. You can tell me what it is you're looking for and I can tell you why you can't have it," he chuckled and Roxas was about to attempt to laugh as well when all thoughts were interrupted by a shout that rang across the room.

"Roxas!" There was no mistaking it this time. Roxas thought his heart might drop through the floor when he saw the redhead he'd been missing for so long.

"Axel," he whispered, but it didn't matter. The man was already pushing his way toward Roxas through the half-crowded room. Roxas was already out of Reno's hold though he couldn't have said how. They were already converging.

"What are you doing here? You can't be here, Rox," Axel murmured before pulling Roxas into a crushing embrace.

"Finding you, shithead," he laughed, trying not to cry from relief. "You had me worried sick."

"Sorry, Mom," Axel replied, rolling his eyes but doing a bad job of pretending nonchalance, "I forgot to call."

"Axel." The word was filled with such an ice-cold threatening cadence that Roxas wanted to hide before he even realized where it came from. Axel, however, was staring over his shoulder, not flinching from the glare Roxas was sure he was receiving from his employer. "Don't you have clients to attend to?" Reno hissed and Roxas cringed as the words hit his ears, sinking into the warmth of the friend he thought he'd never find again.

"Actually, no," Axel said evenly, not seeming affected at all by the tone. "I think my work here is done, _Reno_." Axel spat out the name and this time it clicked with Roxas that the resemblance between the two was more than just coincidence. _Big brother Reno doesn't like disloyalty_ he remembered Xaldin telling him, and suddenly it made sense. It wasn't just a strange street name for the man in charge. Xaldin was trying to tell him that Axel was working for his brother. How he hadn't seen it before seemed incredibly idiotic too him now. There wasn't time to mention anything though because Axel was spinning him as fast as his thoughts and hauling him toward the staircase.

"Let's go," he was whispering, voice rough in Roxas' ear and Roxas obeyed more because he couldn't think past the sound of Axel's voice than because he was paying attention. It seemed like a much shorter trip down than it had been up despite the unbelievable number of times that Roxas had tripped over his own feet trying to keep up with the redhead. Somehow he made it to the street and then Axel was practically running, one hand clenching Roxas so hard that it started to tingle.

"Where are we going?" Axel turned his head for just a split second, not even pausing his stride before answering.

"Home."

Roxas was having enough trouble thinking straight already. Everything was happening so fast. The conversation was too cryptic for him to handle. "But you don't have a home…" he left the sentence open for Axel to correct him.

"I know. I'm taking you home."

"What just happened?" Roxas was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that he had found his friend and that his friend had just dropped everything to cart him home.

"I quit." Roxas nodded. He'd gotten that much at least. Then he frowned.

"Xaldin said that was stupid," he commented, recalling more of his conversation with the other man, and Axel turned again, just enough to flash him a trademark grin.

"It was." Then they were outside his apartment and Roxas was sure it had taken him a lot longer to get there with Larxene. He wondered if she had just been leading him through random streets to try to scare the living daylights out of him. Axel stopped and he slid a hand to Roxas' face. His eyes were bright with adrenaline and it seeped into his speech, speeding up the words. "Promise me you'll stay inside tonight." Roxas shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

"Stay inside?"

"Please?" Axel widened his gaze and Roxas wanted to say that yes, he would do anything for Axel, but he remembered what the redhead was asking for and he stopped himself.

"Only if you promise to stay with me." He reached up to loop his arms around Axel's neck and leaned up a little more, stretching out his courage and his body until his lips were just centimeters away. Axel's face was already leaning down a little so it didn't take much for their lips to meet. It was fire burning into his soul the way they fit together. He felt like one end of the salt and pepper shakers that are shaped like animals, his magnet inevitably pulling him closer and closer until finally in this moment they were together, the way they were supposed to be. He hoped the way he twisted his tongue spelled out his feelings clearly enough because Axel's was spelling out his name like a love song before he broke away and it ended as suddenly as it began.

"I can't," he whispered, and he sounded hurt. He pulled open the door and pushed Roxas inside and turned back to the dying light of the city streets, walking quickly back the way he'd come. Roxas was left feeling like the night was a series of snapshots, one event after another. He wished he had some video clips of the parts in between because so far none of it fit together quite right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: Okay, yeah. It's like six months late. And it kind of sucks. But there's somewhat of a sort of smutty scene. And I like to think some of it is at least mildly amusing. And honestly I really just wanted this to be done. So I vastly apologize and assure you that my writing will improve. Also yes, the plot is a little bit spotty. I realize that. It's because I just wanted the beginning and the end and the middle bit was just…annoying. Also, there are some grammar mistakes in here but mostly because Roxas was incapable of thinking at the time, not because I'm a terrible writer. I think. So sorry.**

Roxas was not very good at following instructions. He'd been a somewhat petulant child (or so his mother said) and the trait had not so much as budged in his 21 years of growth. Still, it seemed to him that he had made a deal with the redhead, and if Axel wasn't going to keep his end of the bargain, neither was Roxas. So with his internal compass twirling in circles and a Swiss army knife clutched tight in his fist, he set off to find the man who had specifically told him not to.

The dim light of evening had faded fast and the streets were the kind of black you find on the inside of a coffin, oppressive and without even the hope of future light. Roxas carried a flashlight in white knuckles, but the beam barely cut five feet in front of him and it was dying fast anyway. He hadn't gotten batteries for it in…he couldn't remember. He was supposed to get them yesterday he remembered, but it had hardly seemed important at the time. He moved through the streets quickly, shoulders set against acknowledging the fears he found in the shadows of each new alley. He followed the twists and turns so quickly that he could convince himself he knew where he was going.

It wasn't until midnight that he realized he didn't have a clue where he was. It wasn't until two in the morning that he finally turned around, heart setting in stone and plummeting through his vital organs to sit in a shattered mess at his feet. It wasn't until six that he finally managed to get home, trudge up the three flights of stairs to his apartment, and fall into bed. There was laundry to do, and he was pretty sure he had missed some class today, but he couldn't remember which one, and he didn't want to try. Axel was gone. He'd had him, for just an instant, and then he was gone.

His dreams were more vivid then ever before, senses heightened by the events of the night. The scenes he played out were filled with Reno and Larxene and the streets of his search. Even Xaldin made a short appearance, playing some sad melody and looking at Roxas with eyes that had seen to many broken men to care for the blonde's broken heart. He woke to silence and stillness for the first time in weeks, so used to calling out for Axel that he almost believed he was still in a dream. He waited for the first tragedy to occur, but when none came he remembered that the worst of it had been real. He'd lost Axel. He'd found him and then lost him again. And this time, he wouldn't get him back.

He spent a long time on the couch, trying to convince himself that there were groceries to buy, a schedule to follow. It was almost noon by the time he opened the curtains and looked down to see…Axel.

His heart had stopped beating when he had lost himself in his own city. He was sure that he hadn't heard the sound of it in his ears since their kiss the night before. But it came back with startling speed and clarity, booming across his bones so hard that he felt like he was vibrating. He was out the door in an instant, almost without the key because if this was a dream…he couldn't finish his own sentences, his brain muddled with an endless mantra of _please, please, please, please_ until he gave up on thought and just tried to focus on not falling down the stairs. He tumbled out the door with all the grace of a five-year-old on Christmas morning, face flushed and brain reeling.

Axel was waiting for him, pacing back and forth and running a hand through his flaming hair. He stopped abruptly when he saw the blonde and gave him a weak smile. Roxas noticed that he had the beginnings of a black eye. "Hey," he murmured, stepping forward and catching Roxas' face in one hand. Roxas reached up to trace the outline of what was going to be a nasty bruise.

"Hey," he responded breathlessly, wishing he knew how to ask the millions of questions in his mind. Axel winced at the light touch and Roxas frowned. "What happened?"

"It could have been worse." It wasn't an answer but Roxas knew it was all he was going to get right now so he just swallowed back a huge chunk of revolting fear and nodded, the only way he knew to convey that he had imagined all the ways it could have been so much worse. Axel sighed and dropped his hold, shutting his eyes and running a frantic hand through his hair. "We need to talk."

It was all Roxas could do to nod again. His heart was thudding a mile a minute. A few weeks ago they had been friends. After the fight they had been less than that. Suddenly, last night…he wasn't sure what they were anymore.

"I haven't been…" he paused, staring into the distance as if the right words were just on the horizon, "totally honest with you." He gave Roxas a furtive glance, looking for a reaction but Roxas was frozen in place, the same carefully neutral mask plastered onto his face. Axel took another deep breath and looked like he was about to speak before he let out a weak laugh.

"Shit, this is hard," he whispered and Roxas tried to smile, but it wasn't any easier for him, so the best he could manage was a slight twitch of his lips. "I didn't know at first. I mean, the first time you saw me I swear you were just a customer," He was staring at something far over Roxas' head, as if King Kong was holding up cue cards, just down the street. "Maybe even the second time," He added, after a small pause. "But I was…fascinated. And then you invited me to dinner and you were…God, I don't know. Charming. You were charming and beautiful and…I couldn't stop thinking about you. I kept wishing I could get more readings of you, just to know more about you. And then I went to see Reno," another glance at Roxas, but he stood stock still, posing for a portrait of someone in shock, "to tell him…" a hand through ruffled hair, "that I wouldn't do it anymore." He looked at his feet, embarrassed. "You know…the work." He looked up through his eyelashes and Roxas wanted to comfort him but he still wasn't quite sure what was going on, what was happening, what had happened, and his body didn't seem to be responding to his desire to _just do something already_ so he twitched his lips again in acknowledgement and let Axel go on.

"He was giving me a deal, you know. Because we're…" he seemed to be choking on something, "brothers," he spat, and Roxas knew it grieved him a great deal to admit that. "I gave him a portion of the profits and he didn't make me stay there forever," he managed an angry smile. "It was just when business was bad," he quickly added and then his face softened, recalling some memory, "but business hadn't been bad for a while." He looked at Roxas but his eyes were sad, the memory slowly draining from his face until his mouth was set back into a line. "And I was going to tell you, I swear, but you just…" he huffed out a frustrated breath and tugged at his spikes. "You were just…" he trailed off and then his eyes slowly met Roxas'. "I think I'm in love with you," He burst out and Roxas blinked for what felt like the first time in an hour. "Please say something," Axel finally begged, looking like he expected the cement to drop out from under him at any moment.

"I don't know what to say," Roxas found his voice cracked but usable. His brain, on the other hand, appeared to be long gone.

"You could start with 'Oh, Axel, don't worry, you'll always be my friend no matter what stupid shit you say,'" he suggested.

"I'm not sure I can do that," Roxas managed and Axel's shoulders sagged, like he'd just agreed to carry a sequoia on his shoulders for the rest of his life.

"No?" His voice was very quiet.

"I don't think friend is the right word," Roxas reached out his hand and brushed a hair out of Axel's face. Axel cringed as the fingers brushed past his swelling skin. "Hey, I have a question."

"Yeah?" Axel didn't look at him on his own so Roxas took hold of his chin and turned his face.

"Do you think I could kiss you again?" he whispered, taking a step towards the taller man. Axel, who had apparently stopped breathing, didn't respond, so Roxas just stretched up on his toes and closed his eyes and let that magnet in his soul do the rest. Axel was slow to respond, hesitant and cautious. He seemed to think there was a poisonous snake in Roxas' mouth that could come out and bite him at any moment. Roxas didn't mind. It was still Axel, that same smoky, tangy taste he remembered from the night before. His tongue still danced circles around Roxas' own, though admittedly it was more of a waltz than the tango it had been doing before. His lips were still warm and soft and wonderful and it was still like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was still too soon when Axel broke away.

"I don't understand," he gasped out and Roxas didn't answer, just pulled him closer and closed the gap between them again. He stumbled backward and flung open the door, dragging the redhead inside and fumbling through his back pocket with one hand to find the key to the lobby. He had to break off after that, to get inside, because as many times as he had opened this door it still took him staring it down for it to finally unjam the key and just let him in already. But Axel was catching up to his agenda and he was ready when Roxas turned to capture him again, if only for an instant before they were tripping up the stairs, Roxas desperately wishing he had an elevator because there would be time behind those shiny closed doors to memorize more of Axel's scent and Axel's taste and just Axel. But they were on the third floor in under a minute – Roxas was sure it was a new record for him – and pressed against the hallway, doing their best to meld into each other with each new touch. Axel broke off and leaned his forehead against Roxas', staring into his eyes and practically glowing with happiness before he spoke.

"Hey, I have a question."

"Yeah?" Roxas was having trouble getting enough oxygen, though their lips had been parted for a while now and he'd been taking it in with giant gulping breaths.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He looked a little desperate when he asked and Roxas could tell he was both waiting for the confirmation of his disbelief and hoping that somehow it wouldn't come.

"You've been keeping me up all night anyway," Roxas managed, "might as well not have to jack off in the morning." All the walls Axel was building against what he thought was coming were busted down with the laugh that escaped him then, breathless and ecstatic and he leaned in again and Roxas thought about how this could never get old before he directed his brain to unlocking and opening his door, mostly without looking because that was definitely better. They tumbled inside, Roxas wishing he'd done some laundry instead of dumping it on the couch and Axel not even noticing in his Roxas-induced haze, practically running to the bedroom as much as they could in their love drunk state.

Roxas wasn't sure how he ended up out of his shirt but he knew his bare back hit the mattress and knocked the breath out of him almost as much as the sight of Axel pulling off his own clothes. He wasn't sure how long it took Axel to finally get a condom on after he tossed him the package, but he knew it was an eternity. And then he knew Axel was hovering over him and he had just enough sense to growl out an affirmation when he asked the smaller boy if he was absolutely positively sure that they should be…Roxas cut him off after that with another heated kiss and let his hand guiding Axel's say the rest.

Roxas was 21, and a college kid, so it wasn't as if he'd never done this before, but it had been a while since he'd had the opportunity – he liked to think that was because he was working on his thesis, not because he totally lacked any form of social life. It was something of a shock to feel those fingers he had so often dreamed of pushing into him, slick with… where did he find that stuff? even if Axel was trying to distract him by nuzzling his way down the blonde's neck.

"You okay?" he murmured against Roxas' throat and the blonde shuddered, shifting a bit and then managed to choke out a "yeah" so that Axel added another finger and he just flat out groaned, not realizing for a moment that his voice was matched with Axel's as they both ended up panting out their lust-filled breaths. "Shit." And Roxas could only agree, eyelids lifting to take in the sight of Axel, just Axel, finally Axel, although he wasn't sure when he'd taken his pants off. If this was dreaming, Roxas was determined to sleep forever, and he was fairly certain he was dreaming. It was all happening so fast, he wasn't sure what had sparked this, what had made them finally collide the way they were obviously supposed to because Axel was moving his fingers and Roxas couldn't think past that.

Roxas raised a weak arm and traced the angles of Axel's face as the redhead pressed into him, gritting his teeth and trying not to set his shoulders because Axel was telling him to _relax, relax, relax_, but he was remembering quite vividly now exactly how long it had been since he had done this, and he was having trouble adjusting. Axel shifted and it burned a little but somehow that made their faces closer and that was easier because Roxas knew the melody that went with these words, knew how to move his tongue to the beat so that he was almost fighting for dominance.

It was bright white light, and shifting shadows behind his eyelids. It was slick plastic and slicker skin. It was impossible, improbable, unlikely. Roxas was absolutely sure he was behind schedule. But through the window -curtains still wide open to let in the afternoon sun- any passerby could see that he was not going to get back on track any time soon.


End file.
